Disappear continued
by darkeyedmystery21
Summary: Continuation off of HouLoiMouGin's story Disappear. READ THAT ONE FIRST! Picks up after James punches him in the face while he's still locked in the room. He ends up back in his own universe convinced that Voldemort was just messing with his head, until 4 years later when a certain father appears in Harry's universe. in the end, where the deatheaters rescued Harry never happened
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter does not belong to me.**

**Takes place in the last chapter of HouLoiMouGin's story, disappear, after Harry accidentally attacks Dumbledore and after James punches him in the face. The very end of the story where the deatheaters came and rescued him, and brought him back to Voldemort never happened.**

Prologue

The pain in his scar was agonizing. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his nails digging into the palms or his hands as waves of pain and anger washed over him. He wanted to break something, anything, _everything._ He wanted to tear down the walls that surrounded him. Above all things, he wanted to kill.

Well Harry didn't want to, but _he_ did, and _he _was inside his head.

He half groaned, half growled as another wave of pain and anger engulfed him. How much longer was this going to last? It was worse than it had ever been. He cried out, his voice cracking a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Get out of my head Voldemort!" he screamed, digging his fingernails deeper into his palms drawing blood. "Get out," the hoarse whisper followed.

The searing pain in his scar was rapidly growing more and more intense, to the point where it was blinding. He could hardly see. The room was fading slowly; spinning, and growing blurry and dark until it was all blackness, all nothingness.

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the grass staring at the Dursley's garden. The smell of dirt and freshly cut grass filled his nose.

_Why am I sleeping outside?_ He wondered stupidly. He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? _Come to think of it, what was the last thing I did in general?_

That was when it hit him. It was like a ton of bricks slamming into his mind. Deatheater, Azkaban, Sirius, court trial, Voldemort, _alternate universe_.

Harry sat bolt upright. He was shaking slightly and his head was spinning. _Was I in an alternate universe or was I just dreaming that I was?_ How was he supposed to be able to tell the difference?

He stood up, despite the dizziness he felt, and began pacing back and forth. On the slight chance that he _had _been in an alternate universe, did it really matter anymore? He was home. How would it affect him, or anyone for that matter, now? Besides, it was more than likely just a dream. _But it felt so real._ He thought then shook his head. It'd had been a dream. How could he have actually gotten to an alternate universe? The thought was just absurd. What else could it have been if it wasn't real?

He froze as a sudden realization washed over him. _Of course. _It made sense now. The reason for blacking out and having a crazy dream (although it felt so _real_). Voldemort was messing with his head. He was lousy at occlemency after all.

_Maybe he was trying to unnerve me._ Harry rationalized, wondering what Voldemort's specific motive had been in creating _that _of all visions he could have made. _Anyway, he had to have known Sirius had died, and who was the first person I saw?_ _Of all people, I'd been Sirius._ Yes, that was what had happened. Voldemort had been messing with his head. _That had to be it. _He decided.

He sighed and brushed the grass off of his clothes. The dream was irrelevant now.

**It'll probably take me between 2 weeks and 2 months to update depending on my schedule. Please please please review. If I dont get atleast 2 updates each chapter (i dont count prologues as chapters by the way) then it might take a while longer to update. So review! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Harry Potter blah blah blah. The song remains the same.**

Chapter 1

_4 years later…_

"Harry." Ginny called as he entered the burrow, closing the door behind himself. She sauntered up to greet him a hug and a kiss. "I missed you."

Harry chuckled softly. "You know it's only been two day, right?" he asked. "But I missed you too."

"Two days is too long." She complained as she took him by the hand and dragged him to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was chopping vegetable for dinner. She looked up at the sound of their footsteps.

"Harry. How have you been, dear?" she said ushering him over and enveloping him in a tight hug.

"Fantastic, you and Mr. Weasley?" he responded.

"Oh we've been well. Ron and George should be home from the shop in a few minutes," Mrs. Weasley informed them. Ever since Fred had died, Ron had been helping George run the joke shop, although, now he talked of starting training to become an auror. Nothing had been decided yet, though, and Ron still spent every afternoon working in Fred's place.

Fred had been one of the casualties in the Battle of Hogwarts almost two years ago. There were still moments where George would turn to his side to share a piece of news, only to realize that there was no one there, or times where he would pause in the middle of a sentence, like he was expecting someone else to finish it. It still hurt to think of Fred, and it hurt to see just how much of an effect it was still having on his twin brother, but Fred knew what he was getting into when he went to fight that day. He knew what he wanted. He was a free spirit and he wanted to make people laugh, to make them happy. With the war there had been so much sorrow and grieving. He had died fighting for what he believed in, for better days, and, although it saddened him to know Fred was gone, Harry had always admired that.

"Bill and Fleur are bringing Victorie with them to dinner, and Hermione is coming as well," Mrs. Weasley added interrupting Harry's thoughts.

He smiled at her. "That sounds nice." He said as he leaned against the counter staring out the window at the area where he, Ginny, Ron, and the twins had always played quidditch during the summer holidays. Suddenly something occurred to him.

"Hey, Gin."

"Hmm?" Ginny inquired.

"How did tryouts for the Holyhead Harpies go?" He asked curiously. Ginny had been blabbing avidly about tryouts for nearly two months, ever since she found out they were holding them.

For a moment, she just stared blankly at him, and then her face broke into a wide grin. "I was supposed to wait until diner to make the announcement, but I can't keep a straight face. I made the cut! I'm playing chaser for a professional quidditch team!" she exclaimed, and then squealed, uncharacteristically and began jumping up and down.

"Oh my gosh. Gin, that's amazing!" Harry said. He grabbed her and pulled her into a hug, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around as they both laughed.

A faint pop came from outside and Harry looked up as he set Ginny down on her feet. A moment later the front door opened, Ron and George slipped inside.

"Hi Mum. Hi Harry, Ginny" Ron greeted them as George nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hi" Harry and Ginny said together.

"How are things at the shop?" Harry asked.

"Good. It was really busy today." George answered.

"When is it not?" Ginny countered. She did have a point. The joke shop had by far beaten out even Zonko's in terms of popularity.

"Well, yeah, but enough of that, what's for dinner? I'm starving"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Ron you're _always _starving. I swear you eat more than the rest of us combined."

"Besides if anyone, it's Harry that needs the food the most." George added.

"Hey that is _way_ over exaggerated." Ron said defensively.

"And I'm not _that _scrawny anymore." Harry argued. This was true. Even though he was still skinny, he no longer appeared to be malnourished. Now, he was twenty pounds heavier, three inches taller, and well-built with nicely toned muscles.

"Yeah, yeah" George murmured.

Harry rolled his eyes as they migrated to the couch to continue their conversation. Slowly others showed up and about an hour later they were all gathered around the dinner table filling up on chicken, mashed potatoes , carrots, peas. Etc…

Harry sat slightly turned toward Ginny, who was sitting on his left. Ron and Hermione were seated in front of them and Mr. Weasley sat on his right. He was holding Ginny's hand and listening to Ron and Hermione argue about how Ron had not been chewing with his mouth closed. He sighed, a small amused smiled touching his lips. It felt good, listening to people talk, and laugh, and bicker, knowing everything was normal, that people were healing. You could still see it in their eyes, the torment from the war, but somehow they founded a way to move forward, to be able to laugh and smile without it being forced. It felt good to know that things were finally better now that the war was over.

They still had some issues though with deatheaters that remained loyal to Voldemort even in death. Although no all of them were completely convinced he was dead. They believed if he could come back once then he could come back again. Of course, they didn't know the truth about the horcruxes so they remained loyal attempting to continue wreaking havoc on civilians. The aurors, which now included him, were taking care of it though. Many of the rough deatheaters were now locked up in Azkaban, and there were very few attacks from those that were left. For the most part things were fine.

Harry cast his thoughts aside and cleared his throat. "Isn't there something you're forgetting to mention?" he said turning to Ginny.

She smiled broadly at him before stating, "I'm play chaser for the Holyhead Harpies!"

"Ginny, that's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah! Way to go!" Bill said high fiving his youngest sibling as everyone congratulated her on making the team.

Suddenly there was a flash of blinding white light and a loud crack. The room filled with smoke and Harry whipped his wand out jumping to his feet. Slowly the smoke cleared to reveal a familiar, dark haired man lying unconscious on the floor.

_Wait._ Harry thought to himself. He knew this man. But…how?

"What the hell?" he exclaimed.

**Yay! This Chapter actually had some length to it. Generally I would expect chapters to be somewhere between 1000-3000 words (I wrote this in just a few hours so it's definitely not going to be my longest chapter). Then prologue was just super short because…well it was a prologue. Review PLEEEEAAASSSSEEE! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok so I really didn't know how to go about writing this, so I would appreciate constructive criticism on how I did. Just make sure to word it politely. I'd really appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: I do not and will never own harry potter**

Chapter 2

Confused murmurs broke out at once. "Oh, Merlin!" "Who is he?" "Who the hell do you think he is? Look at him for goodness sake!" "But how?" "What the hell just happened?" "Some supposedly dead, and at the moment, unconscious man just appeared in front of us after we were nearly blinded by a really bright white light. Weren't you paying any attention?" "Shut the hell up George!"

"Someone go get Kingsley." Harry said authoritatively, and everyone fell silent as Mr. Weasley sent a patronas message to Kingsley.

"What do we do now?" Ron asked

"Move him upstairs and lock him in a room until we figure out what's going on." Bill stated as he handed his daughter, whose face had been buried in his chest as he held her, obviously upset by the commotion, over to Fleur. "Someone should alert McGonagall and Bryne as well." He added.

Jonathan Bryne was a tall, muscular, sandy haired man in his mid-thirties. He'd become head of the auror department after the war since Kingsley had become the Minister of Magic.

"I'll go do that," Hermione said nodding and Bill before sending a patronas to alert the other two.

Mr. Weasley helped Bill move the man Percy's old room locking him in there.

Harry sat down as he waited for the minister, headmistress, and head auror to appear. His body felt numb. Everything seemed unreal, like he was watching it happen on a muggle television screen. Fighting Voldemort and deatheaters in the war had been one thing, he knew why everything was happening and what was going on, but dealing with this, seeing someone who had been "dead" for eighteen years, was something entirely foreign. Well not _entirely._ There had been that _one_ time…but no it had been a dream Voldemort had created, hadn't it?

Merlin! That had been so long ago. He had almost forgotten about it. He'd ignored what happened, pretended it wasn't real, and, after almost a year, when nothing else happened, he'd been convinced that it was just a dream as he had previously theorized. But still, before the second war had reached its height in what would've been his seventh year, when he would still think of what had happened, there would always be a voice in the back of his mind that kept wondering, _What if it_ was_ real?_ He'd always ignored it, casting it of as a foolish thought, but now…how could he call it foolish now? Okay, so maybe this had nothing to do with what had happened four years ago, but then what else could it be? What else made sense?

His train of thought was broken as Kingsley stepped out of the fire place, followed by Bryne and McGonagall who flooed in moments later. Harry stood up and greeted them with a nod.

"Harry." Kinsley acknowledged him. "What's going on?"

Harry briefly explained the situation, and then led the three of them upstairs to where the man was being kept.

He had been laid down on the bed and at the moment still unconscious. His messy jet black hair fell in his face and his glasses had been taken of and set on the nightstand. His wand had been taken as well. It was now in Mr. Weasley's possession.

McGonagall remained frozen in the doorway. "H–how?" she sputtered.

Bryne was about to respond but was cut off as the man rolled over and groaned. His eyes flickered open. He seemed disoriented at first, but after a few moments his eyes settled on Kinsley…and then he noticed Harry. He sucked in a sharp breath and jumped up reaching for his wand, which wasn't there. The others pulled out theirs pointing it at the man. He gazed from Harry to the others. "What the _hell_ are you doing?" he asked Kingsley harshly. "Tie him up." He said gesturing to Harry

"What do you mean what the hell am I doing? Why would I tie _him_ up?"

The man looked at them a mixture of anger, panic, and frustration flashed in his eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

"I'd like to know that too." Bryne spoke up.

"Um…" harry began, wondering what he should tell them.

All eyes turn towards him waiting for an explanation. He bit his lip nervously. McGonagall, seeing his reaction, and knowing perfectly well, from experience, that she probably wasn't going to like the answer, closed her eyes and let out a breath. "Do I even…_want_ to know where this is going?"

Harry sighed. "Probably not." He admitted. "When I was fifteen, during the summer before my sixth year, I may have been..transported to an alternate universe. One where I was Voldemort's most faithful servant."

"His most faithful _what?_" McGonagall exclaimed.

"Servant! Which you _are!_" The man shouted.

"Whoa, hold on. Let's get a few things straight first." Bryne said attempting to calm the man down. "You _are_ James Potter correct?"

"_Yes!_" the man, James, said impatiently. "Oh, bloody hell. You're all deatheaters, aren't you?" James said as sudden realization crossed his face.

"For the last Frickin' time, I'm not a Deatheater!" harry shouted, anger rising up in him. In retrospect it was funny how he could still hold a grudge after that long. "Sorry" he muttered under the gazes of the others and out of curiosity added. "I went missing, didn't I, after some fire in the ministry? I was found again when I was fifteen. I was locked up and after the…incident with Dumbledore. And then I disappeared again. Am I right?"

"So you admit to starting the fire, to killing all of those people," James said accusingly.

"_No_ but…" he paused them whisper to himself. "It really wasn't a dream."

"Do you want to explain things more thoroughly than you went to an alternate universe, where you were a deatheater, and that James is from that universe?" McGonagall asked.

"That is assuming that he really _did_ go to an alternate universe." Bryne said to her.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Bryne. "You want to explain what this is then, because people don't come back from the dead." His thought immediately sifted to the deathly hallows. Could it be possible? _Scratch that thought. He remembers everything that happened in that __dream__ universe_.

"And back to more specifics." McGonagall said turning to Harry.

Harry sighed and began explaining how he went from being at the Dursley's to all of a sudden ending up in a street in an alternate universe, how Sirius captured him and how he was locked up. He explained the trial, what he was accused of, and how it was slowly driving him crazy seeing so many dead people. He talked about how he went to see Luna and discovered what really happed, then how he was recaptured and brought to Dumbledore. He told them that Voldemort was angry and because of that he blacked out and attacked Dumbledore. ("How does _Voldemort_ being angry make _you_ attack Dumbledore?" James spat. Harry ignored him). He proceeded to explain being locked up (leaving out the part where James punched him in the face.) and how eventually woke up back at the Dursley's house and how he had convinced himself that the entire thing had not been real.

For a while there was silence. Then James spoke up.

"Do you really expect me to believe that you're not a deatheater"

"James I'm not that same person. This isn't the same universe." Harry responded in a gentle and slightly placating way.

"I don't give a damn what universe it is! You're still a deatheater!"

"Okayyy…" Harry said, not completely sure how to respond.

"James," Kingsley said softly, in an attempt to calm the man. "I can assure you that Harry is absolutely _not _a deatheater."

"Okay but how do I know that I'm really in an alternate universe. This could all just be a trick and all of you could be deatheaters on polyjuice potion. I was in the middle of a fight before this which included four deatheater. There are four of you here. You do the math. I'm not that naive you know."

"I can't make you believe anything I say, but I swear to you that we're not lying." Harry told him.

"Then let me go. If you're not deatheaters then you would want to harm me and you would let me go."

Kingsley shook his head. "No can do. In this universe James Potter is dead and buried. You can't just go walking down the street. You haveto stay put somewhere where no one will see you, despite those that know what is going on. At least until we figure out what to do."

"So whether or not you're deatheaters doesn't matter because I'm locked up either way." James muttered.

"And for living arrangements…?" McGonagall inquired.

Bryne look to Harry and Harry sighed. "Fine."

"Good," he responded then turned to James. "You'll be staying with Harry at Grimmauld Place."

"Are you joking? I'm not staying with him! He'd murder me in my sleep! Hell no!" James protested.

Harry cheeks flushed red feeling both angry and offended. "I'm not a bloody deatheater _or_ a murderer. Do not treat me as if I am." He said calmly but coldly.

"You'll be staying with Harry at Grimmauld Place." Byrne repeated. The decision was final.

_Oh this'll be fun._ Harry thought sarcastically, definitely not looking forward to what the next few weeks (hopefully no longer than that) would have in store for him.

**Okay, there's chapter two. Sorry it took me so long, school got in the way. I wasn't really sure how this chapter was going to turn out but it's better than I thought it would be even if it's not as good as I had wished.**

**So what do you think? If you have any ideas for the story you're more than welcome to leave a review. I would love to hear it. And as I said before** **I really didn't know how to go about writing this, so I would appreciate constructive criticism on how I did. Just make sure to word it politely. **

**I'll update in normally 2weeks - 2months.**

**Please Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm kind of making this up as I go along so feel free to give me some ideas because I really don't know where this story is going.**

Chapter 3

James's POV

_How the hell did I get stuck in an "alternate universe" (okay, yeah sure. I believe that. *cough cough* sarcasm *cough cough*) with my deatheater son and everyone looking at me like _I'm _the criminal. How did I get stuck in this? _James thought, groaning mentally. _But oh gosh, he looks so much like him, like the _old_ harry. The one who loved quidditch and befriended Luna, despite that others argued that she was starnge, because he didn't care that she acted like she did, only that she was one of the kindest people in the world. The one who just loved being happy and could make anyone smile. He seems so much like _my_ Harry. _His heart clenched as it always did when he thought about his son. _Why? Why did he have to change? Was it my fault? Could I have stopped it? Damn he looks so much like him! _He let out a frustrated sigh and Harry the deatheater (_He's not the same person anymore. He's not my Harry) _turned to him raising an eyebrow.

"What?" James spat.

The deatheater threw his hands up in surrender. "Whatever."

James glared at him.

Harry's POV

_Someone's got some issues, _was Harry's first thought. _At least he doesn't have everyone telling him he's a psychotic deatheater like I did. _Harry sighed. _Calm down. Don't lose your temper. It won't do you any good. _

He took a pinch of floo powder and handed the flower pot to James. "Uh, see you in a minute I guess." And with that he stepped into the fire place and disappeared in the green flames after announcing "Number 12 Grimmauld Place"

He stepped out of the fireplace at what had been his, along with Neville's (It'd been difficult for him to escape from the grasp of his Grandmother. She meant well, but in the past four years it had become obvious that he was better off without the criticism she often attacked him with. She did it to try and make him better but the lack of confidence it gave him only made things worse.) home for the past two years.

Towards the end of July though Professor McGonagall had offered Neville a job teaching herbology at Hogwarts due to Professor Sprout's retirement. He'd been staying at Hogwarts and would not return for the next two and a half months. Unfortunately that left Harry alone…with James. _This won't end badly at all. _Harry though sarcastically.

James stepped out of the fireplace a few moments after him. For a few moments they just stood there awkwardly. "Well I guess I should show you to your room." Harry said breaking the silence.

James nodded but didn't respond. Harry knew he still didn't believe him and he wasn't sure he ever really would.

_Why did I really have to go to an alternate universe?_ _Why couldn't it have just been a dream, because this really isn't going to go well. Why me?_

It'd been a long time since he'd had to ask himself that question but now it just kept repeating in his head.

_Why me? Why me? Why me? _

**So there's another chapter. Sorry it's so short and that it took so long. I don't really have that much time to write anymore. I also don't really have a lot of reviews. Normally I would keep writing just for the hell of it but I have soccer and ice skating and four billion art projects (I exaggerate a lot but you get the point) and other school stuff (AP world and Spanish really suck) so unless I get at least 1 review per chapter I might stop writing this story. There may be a random day where I just have nothing to do and I might write for fun but I don't know if I would actually feel like writing instead of other stuff I don't have time to do anymore and I don't know when I'll actually have a free day so just keep all that in mind. Moving on I hope you enjoyed. J**

**No reviews = no updates**

**If I get reviews I'll update somewhere between 2 weeks and 2 months **

**Please please please review! J**


	5. Notice

**Notice**

**Okay so I know it's been a while and sorry to disappoint since this isn't an update. I promise I will continue this story eventually but for the time being I want to focus more on school and my friends. My grades are kind of slipping and I need to bring them back up. Plus I've been spending 2-3 out of 5 nights in the school week up until 2:30 in the morning doing homework, then waking up at 5:30. I've been kind of stressed because of this and hanging with my friends and maybe playing a little bit of soccer has ALWAYS made me feel better. Writing on the other hand, as much as I love it, only adds to my stress level. I promise though, I will come back to this story. It hasn't been abandoned. Also if you want to comment and leave suggestions or ideas that I could incorporate into this story feel free. They are more than welcome. **


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